


Hurricane

by merrabeth



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Meeting for the first time, some strong language that's pretty normal for the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrabeth/pseuds/merrabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where you headed?” Ian choked out, regretting the question as soon as it passed his lips. The man looked up to him; blue eyes squinted against the wind (or maybe at the idiotic redhead beside him).</p><p>He rubbed at his nose on a jerk reaction as he looked away from Ian before he answered. “Uh, I’m goin’ over to Fuck Off Ave; right before None of Your Business St.” A sharp eyebrow shot up as he dared for Ian to respond. All he did was roll his eyes to the other direction. Ian was right: an apology wouldn’t work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Actual Story:
> 
> I’m sitting out on a my mother’s friend’s balcony up in Linkin Park because of bible study and I’m not about to listen to that so I go outside and listen to music and watch people and cars passing by. At the bus stop is a guy and a lady. About 30 minutes in they started talking to each other because the bus is late so why not. Three hours later and they’re laughing and talking- the bus comes. During that three hours, Hurricane by Ms. Mr. comes on and that’s what inspired me to gallavich the whole scenario.
> 
> Enjoy ^_^

Ian Gallagher held the napkin tightly in his hands, trying to read the chicken scratch the lady at the bar had written down. Was that 76 or 96…or 46? He looked up to the bus stop pole, and guessing with doubted certainty that it said 76 since that was the number on the sign. He looked to his right and read the street name again; Logan. He was sure he could make something of it, but there was nothing to grasp. Ian was completely lost.

His leg began to twitch, itching to move as doubt settled into his bones, ten minutes later. The bus had yet to come and the temperature seemed to be dropping. He leaned back against the rail, remembering he didn’t have to rush.

Ian didn’t register the person walking towards him, figuring they’d continue on across the street and over the bridge to fuck knows where. But when they guy stopped, he looked down, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Aye,” the guy called, “a bus come yet?”

Ian smiled, amused at his own irritation. “If it had, I wouldn’t be standing here, would I?” He looked over to the street sign again. Logan. He felt his irritation grow.

“Alright. Fuck you, too.”

Ian started to apologize, knowing that he shouldn’t let his own irritation from messing up the days of others, but he decided to stay quiet, thinking apologizing wouldn’t make much difference to the guy. At some point he finally looked over, weary of his unwanted companions silence, to find him still there; the man shorter than him with black hair slicked back and a sharp, pale profile.

“Where you headed?” Ian choked out, regretting the question as soon as it passed his lips. The man looked up to him; blue eyes squinted against the wind (or maybe at the idiotic redhead beside him).

He rubbed at his nose on a jerk reaction as he looked away from Ian before he answered. “Uh, I’m goin’ over to Fuck Off Ave; right before None of Your Business St.” A sharp eyebrow shot up as he dared for Ian to respond. All he did was roll his eyes to the other direction. Ian was right: an apology wouldn’t work.

There was no sense of time, or how sluggishly the minutes rolled by. All they had was the setting sun on the summer day. Ian had hoped that at some point the grumpy guy would walk off, obviously harboring impatience in his smaller body. But he stayed, taking refuge as he sat on the rail with a curled back and hands gripping at the metal. At one point, a lady walked by, but Ian didn’t miss how she sped up at the sight of them, maybe more of the thuggish looking guy beside him. He glanced in time to see his blue eyes followed her timid body as she walked past and he rolled his eyes again, his irritation getting the best of him.

“When the fuck is this bus gonna come?” he grumbled, leaning further into the rail.

“Don’t you have a phone or somethin’?” the guy asked, as if Ian’s question was for him to answer.

“It died,” Ian huffed as if the answer was completely obvious. He could see this guy didn’t like his tone of voice as he sniffed, playing with his nose and turning elsewhere.

“Look, don’t take your shit out on me, man. I’m not the one that killed your fuckin’ phone.” He was silent for a second before he turned back. “Where you headed?” he asked with a nod.

Ian turned to the thug to see if he was serious? Maybe it was anger, but Ian laughed. The scary man furrowed his eyebrows.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” He slid of the rail and walked closer, making himself more threatening than just a few seconds a go. Ian would have been a bit scared if the guy hadn’t been maybe half a foot shorter than him. He shook his head, trying to mask the sudden laugh attack he was faced with.

“Everything,” Ian answered once he finally got himself under control. Just as quickly as he was humored, his expression was stoned. “Everything is so _fucking_ hilarious, and you wanna know why?” He paused, but didn’t give the guy a chance to give some type of snarky rejection. “Because I’m fucked up in the head and _no one_ seems to be able to handle it.” He signed heavily, words he’d been thinking for weeks finally spoken aloud. He leaned back against the rail, looking down at the clean corner. This wasn’t like where he was from; Ian was from vacant lots with more garbage than actual grass growing from its dirt womb.

The wind breezed by, picking up a bit. In this surreal silence, it felt like fall rather than the middle of summer. Ian liked the summer, but he loved fall. He loved balance and compromise. With spring and fall, that’s what the earth gave: compromise. The sun was still setting.

“Some people can’t deal,” the guy said, almost timidly, like he was afraid to speak. Ian looked to the thug with confusion. The guy shrugged; he had strong arms, which he knew telling from his choice of shirt. “What, it’s your family?”

Ian gave a silent nod, awed. He was sure this was out of character for… “What’s your name?” he found himself asking.

The guy with blue eyes scoffed and continued, as if Ian never asked the question. “I get the whole family not dealing thing, man. Like, can you believe I’m a fuckin’ fag? Told my old man about a week ago and now he’s in jail for tryin’ to kill my ass. Serves him right-oh don’t give me that fuckin’ look!” Ian tried to pick his jaw from off the ground and try to not look at this guy in a new light. Sure, Ian knew not to judge by looks, like, _Ian_ didn’t look gay necessarily, but this guy…

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just, you don’t-“

“Yeah I’m not the average ‘mo. I get it. I don’t wear a fuckin’ dress.”

“You don’t have to wear a dress to be _gay_.” Ian may have chuckled.

The guy laughed with him. “All I’m trying to say is, even if your family is a bunch of assholes that just don’t get it, there’s always someone there that does. For me, it was my little sister. Whatever your issue is, you’re gonna find someone who doesn’t give a shit.”

Ian looked to those blue eyes, seeing just how warm they actually were despite his overall appearance.  When he turned away, Ian felt completely aware of the wind coursing over his skin, the way his phone was suddenly heavy in his back pocket. It was dead weight.

The guy abruptly walked forward into the empty street, looking down the road to see if he could catch a glimpse of the bus they were both looking for. There was nothing.

“Where’s your phone?” Ian asked mockingly.

The thug glared at him as he walked back. “Ain’t got one.” He grumbled. “Jesus, fuck! Honestly I’ve heard of being a few minutes late but the fuckin’ sun is going down it’s probably been an hour.”

Ian shrugged. “You could always…walk,” he faltered as he realized he wouldn’t be so opposed to the thug’s company. He copied the shorter man’s challenging expression.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay.” Ian noticed the small smile the stranger gave as he settled back on the rail.

Ian had never been in a situation like this before: meeting a stranger that he just wanted to keep talking to, meeting a stranger that watched the day descend with him, meeting a stranger that kept getting closer as the words exchanged became more lighthearted, meeting a stranger that made him wish the bus never came.

But he caught it first, the sight of the bus rolling toward them around three hours. The guy finally jumped off, waiting for the bus to stop before them.  He looked back to Ian. “This what you were waiting for?”

Ian nodded mindlessly, all the uncertainty he had before coming back as a brick wall. He followed behind, getting on. He watched as the guy walked to the back of the fairly empty bus before he asked the driver where the bus went.

“It’s goin’ to the Fullerton train station,” the bus driver replied kindly. “This the right one for you?”

 _Fullerton_. The word really had no meaning; it was just a place he was told to go to in order to get home. He glanced back at the pale man, already staring out of the window. Ian nodded and said thanks as he took a seat near the front.

 

As the bus started, the red head and the pale man glanced at each other. They held each other’s gaze for seconds. It wasn’t until they’d finally passed over the bridge, pass Logan, when Ian finally got up, making his way to the back of the bus in one of the many empty seats, the empty seat next to the blue eyed stranger.

“I’m Ian,” he introduced himself.

The guy look at him, the last three hours replaying like a movie in his eyes. “Mickey.”

“You never told me where you were headed.”

Mickey smiled. “I was lost. I’m goin’ home.”

Ian couldn’t fight his smile. “Me too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In reality, the guy sits at the back, the girl sits at the front and they’re both turned away from eachother as the bus starts to drive off. If they talked to each other again at some point, we’ll never know.


End file.
